


I've Been Thinking Too Much (Help Me)

by KoryMisun



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol Use/Alcoholism, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, I Hate Jerry Smith, Jerry Hate, M/M, Song-inspired, Suicide Attempt, Twenty One Pilots Ride, comforting Morty, depressed Rick, first time posting, road trip in space, seek help if you're thinking about this, you're not alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-11 18:11:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7902676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoryMisun/pseuds/KoryMisun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick isn't able to ask for help; he's so numb he can't even drink when Morty finds him.<br/>Morty decides they both need a vacation, even if their getaway vehicle is made of garbage and they have no itinerary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When No One Else Will

**Author's Note:**

> I'll TRY not to ruin the mood with too much dialogue, just like the powerful scene at the end of Auto Erotic Assimilation. This fic takes place the night of that scene and the morning after. Keep that in mind in case you haven't watched the episode yet!  
> It'll be helpful to listen to the song while reading, 'cause I listened to it while writing. Gotta get this out before my laptop dies and/or I lose inspiration.  
> (Last Edit of the Night) Thank you for the kudos! I guess that's this site's equivalent of a Like button?  
> I'm itching to RP again for whoever's willing, and I'd love to have some topic-prompt things to work off of when this thing is done. If there's anything you want me to write a blurp about, just leave a little comment for me.

~ I Know It's Hard Sometimes

When Rick didn't make a sound in the garage for over twenty hours, Morty knew something was wrong with his grandfather.  
Unfortunately the high schooler had to go to bed, Rick would be fine, he didn't need Morty in his face every moment of the day. Morty hated his parents for not checking on Rick, hated them for brushing off his concerns. Rick was a big boy, with big boy issues that Morty couldn't help with. Bullshit.

"I just can't be caught," the teen told himself after Jerry caught him 'getting a glass of water and a sleeping pill'. He wanted to punch his father for being so uncaring.

"Morty Smith, you need to have a life that doesn't involve being that man's gopher all the time, do you understand?"

Bullshit. Morty didn't want a life like that. A Rick-less life? The very idea made Morty nauseous. To never see the stars again from the ship, to watch as Rick flew off to pick up a new Morty from... wh-wherever the fuck?

Resolved, Morty crept through his own house like a burglar, twisting the doorknob to the garage. He let out a sigh of relief that it was unlocked. "Wh-Why's the light on? Shouldn't he be asleep or-or at least passed out drunk by now?"  
Morty pushed the door in and shut it behind him so the light wouldn't spill into the living room. Just in case he locked the door. Now he could focus on Rick, who was at his desk... and not moving.

~ I Think About the End Way Too Much, But It's Fun to Fantasize

Morty ran over, pulling Rick upright and checking the pulse in his neck. It was too slow. There was a different colored smear of ooze on his chin, and the smell of it was all over the desk. A stain of ashes and some kind of organic goop was all over Rick's front. Swallowing a panic attack, Morty stole back inside to get a huge glass of cold water. He had to keep Rick hydrated, even if he was passed out. He grabbed anything that could be of help and locked himself in the garage again.

When Rick mumbled something, it was the happiest moment of his grandkid's life. If he could talk, he could drink. He would be totally okay.

Morty tilted the glass enough to wet a cloth and wash Rick's face. He asked what Rick had been trying to do, what the goop was, but the scientist shook his head. It was like he was drained. Morty wasn't deterred. He got Rick to swallow half of the water, then set about looking for clues. There were bits of reddish glass all over the floor and desk, so he moved Rick's rolling chair back and swept it up. A coil of wire... These used to be light bulbs.

No matter how hard he tried, Morty couldn't piece together the story of the goopy mess. He saw some of the same green that was on Rick's chin. It smelled burned. So... the bulbs had gotten so hot they had shattered, and the result was... the goop? It didn't make sense to Morty's frazzled, average human brain. He would get it out of Rick later.

~ I'm Falling

"Morty, fuck... you're gonna be grounded, just... fuck out already."

Morty shook his head, determined to change Rick's messy clothes and get him medical help if necessary. Rick seemed too wiped to stop his grandson, which made him angry, because the kid was a shrimp. Somehow this shrimp had picked up the old man and taken him to the adjoining room for a rest. Morty fell asleep first, leaving Rick floating in and out. "Shit, Une..."

\--

Breakfast was tense. Morty had been found in the garage when his parents woke up, and Jerry was pissed. Beth only cared about Morty sleeping on a chilly concrete floor without any sort of cover, now he would get sick, and so on. "He needed me," Morty said, stirring his cereal around with his spoon. "No one else was going to go check..."

"He is fully capable of taking care of himself, damn it, Morty! This delusion that he's your best friend who cares about you is..."

"Shut up, just shut up, Dad!" Not quite what he wanted to say to his father, but a 'fuck you' speech would get him grounded until graduation.

The silence lasted all of two minutes, with Morty being the only one on his feet. Milk dripped from his overturned cereal bowl onto the table, so he went to get a paper towel to clean it up. Jerry didn't know shit about his friendship with Rick. They were family, more so than Morty and Jerry. Rick and Morty was forever, and fuck anyone stupid enough that tried to mess with that dynamic. Once he took care of his breakfast dishes, Morty tromped to the door to the garage, casting a glare at the kitchen. Jerry opened his mouth, probably to forbid Morty from going in, but the door was shut tight already.

"Rick?" No answer. "Grandpa."

"Just. Fuck. Off." Rick drank from a water bottle, but there was no label, so Morty assumed it was tequila or something. He was back at his desk, the evidence from the night before bleached away. For some reason the sight scared Morty.

"Grandpa Rick, we gotta go out today. We-We can't be in the house today, Rick."

Rick lifted his head with a glare. "Don't drag me into whatever shit you started with your folks. I'm taking today off, so go away."

Morty came to a decision, walked towards Rick and picked up the clusterfuck of a key ring he saw lying on the desk. "We're getting out of here, Rick. This place is fucking lame, i-it's time to go." For how long, the young man had no idea. "Fuck Earth."


	2. You're Not Taking My Car

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morty is determined to get as far away from the callous Smith family as possible, because he's convinced he doesn't need anyone else but Rick. Rick disagrees and spends most of the trip trying to get him to turn the car around.  
> Lots of dialogue because it's fun to write and I hate when it gets too quiet.  
> (If it's too short it's because I ran out of time. I'll add to it in a few hours, I promise.)

The brat had to be fucking kidding. "Wha-What? No, Morty... Morty, no. Gimme my goddamn keys back." Rick quickly filled his flask with whatever and pocketed it, eyes following Morty around the room. "If you do this, it's grand theft auto and kidnapping, ya know? Ju-Just sit down and we'll talk."

"You've been out cold for a whole day, Rick, and they told me to leave you out here. They didn't care, and the-they make me sick. So I'm disowning them. I-I'm a fucking Sanchez."

"Oh my god, no." Of all the stupid ideas the stupid turd had, this was the worst. The bravest and most punk thing he ever did, but it was still the worst. "Neither of us want that."

Not in the mood to listen, Morty started the car and moved toward Rick's chair. "We're go-le-leaving now, Rick. Get in the car."

"Yo-You can just go by yourself, y-ya know? Cool off, come back in a day or two 'ca-'cause I need my car, ya know, Morty. No one will call anybody, and no one's gonna get in any trouble. Just give me the keys back, Morty, okay?"

"That's okay, I'll help you get in if you can't walk..."

"Morty!" The angry teen wasn't listening, even to the guy he was throwing his life away to help. Rick wiggled fruitlessly as Morty opened up the passenger side and put him in like he weighed nothing. "G-Goddamn this hangover. M-Morty, it's not too late to rethink this! You're scared of space, you can't drive, and I don't have nearly enough booze to last me the rest of the day! This is stupid... Hey, quit ignoring me you little shit!"

"This is what's best for the both of us, Grandpa Rick. I'm not gonna let you rot away in this garage. Whatever's wrong, we-we can talk it out. I'm here, and I'm not going anywh-where without you. Ou-Our hundred years aren't over yet."

Rick's eyes went from squinted to wide open as Morty buckled up, strapped in his reluctant passenger, and shifted gears. "Morty, this is bad... the fu-fuck are you doing?"

"Music, need music for this." Morty plugged his phone into the car and shuffled it. The volume was loud enough to hear without making the bass boom too hard. "Hold on, Rick!"  
Morty pulled out of the driveway and into the air as Jerry and Summer opened the door to the garage. Rick looked at their terrified faces, wondering why he didn't see his daughter as Morty took them into the sky. While he had been busy freaking out at everything, he hadn't noticed that Morty had packed up his desk and a few other things. Thank fuck the portal and laser guns were safe. Rick would need them to get his psycho grandkid to come to his senses.

~ I'm Taking My Time on My Ride

"Morty... we-we're going like, twenty fuUuoocking miles an hour, can't you put a little more balls into your great escape than this?"

Morty seemed to jolt out of his thoughts, shaking his head from side to side. "Sor-Sorry Rick. I was just trying to figure out how to ask--"

"No."

"Rick--"

"I. Said. No, Morty. You're not talking, you're driving. And I most certainly am not talking, because I'm drinking." Rick shoved the open end of his flask into his mouth and tilted his head back, glugging away. Morty almost smacked the back of his head for being so careless with such a risky habit. "Eyes forward, Morty."


	3. No Turning Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick answers his and Morty's phones, wondering if he should report his own grandson to the GF for being a f--ing nutball. Then again, it's nice to kick back, drink beer and take a nap whenever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I truly have no idea what should happen now. Re-watching both seasons, pining for the release of the third. I also paid better attention to Little Rick's guitar song, which includes a lot of "Help Me". Sad, but a fitting title for this whole fic that I didn't know was there before.  
> PS, I could watch the Frozen Time Family Fun montage a hundred times. :3

Rick fished around in the too-tightly packed bags, looking for anything to get his ass home. Morty had gone for the moment to pump gas and grab some food, so he would be back soon. "Of course he took the keys and my portal gun, piece of... Aha! He packed my phone." Unlocking the screen, he discovered thirty-eight texts and seventeen missed calls from the Smith family they left behind on Earth.

 

"Holy shit, we've been gone an hour. Better not be bitching me out for coercing their baby Morty into another misadventure." Glad his fingers were done being sluggish worms, Rick got comfortable in his seat and started sending replies to Summer. She was the least hysterical of the bunch, asking if they were okay. Jerry's messages were bland, threatening and accusatory. Beth's were hurriedly-typed and full of errors. Rick hoped she wasn't drinking every bottle in the house, that would only make her look negligent, which he knew she wasn't... mostly.

 

~ Summer

 

"We're okay, well, Morty is okay. I'm hungover, pissed and can't get out of the car."

 

"Why Grandpa, what happened?"

 

"Morty caught me angsting out in tha g-rage and he genius-napped me for real."

 

"Shut up!"

 

"No, YOU fuckin shut up! Don't bother callin the cops, they won't pick up any calls from your house. I'm trying to talk your crazy bro to turn the car around. Tell your folks we're totally cool and they should chill da fuck out."

 

"K."

 

~ Jerry

 

"Where the hell is my son you piece of dried up shit?"

 

"Getting Milkduds you useless paramecium who smells like old milk and gym teacher ass."

 

"You know what Rick? When you bring him back you can pack your fucking stuff and get out of my garage, hell, my galaxy! You're a horrible influence on my simple, gullible child and you've been using him for your own selfish gains since you moved in!"

 

"I did not force him to do anything that he did not want to do," Rick was pressing his phone's keys so hard he could hear the plastic and metal groan under the weight. If he got any angrier he could break it in half. "He is not stupid like you. He tried to help me, and when I resisted he took my ship's keys and we've been cruising under the speed limit ever since. He's behind the wheel on this one, asshole."

 

~ Beth

 

"Hi sweetie." God, this hurt to type because he knew his daughter was probably binge-drinking in the kitchen. "Heyyy, I'm just sending you this to let you know we are fine. Your little boy is alright, we're coming back soon and I love you, okay? So just read a book and don't worry about a thing!" Rick pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Let me know if Jerry gives you any crap, okay? See you tonight, I'll bring home candy. Don't worry!" Smiley face. No, smiley face with a party hat.

 

~ I'd Die For You, That's Easy to Say

 

Pulling out of the rest stop, Morty glanced over and noticed Rick clutching his phone, typing quickly to someone. "They know we're gone."

 

"Uhh, no shit they know we're gone, Morty! Jerry busted the door down as we took off. Yo-ouughh, you have any idea how scared your mother is? I mean, not like 'my brat's been kidnapped' scared but 'I'm a bad parent so my brat ran away!' scared. I-I told you, Morty, this was a bad fuckin' idea but you weren't even listening! What the hell is this gesture even for! If it's because of yesterday or whatever, fucking stop, 'cause you were never meant to come in or see any of that!"

 

Rick paused, low on breath, and glared over at Morty's round, dumb face. "What?" he demanded, spittle flying every which way. The turd didn't even attempt to dodge. "God, you're like a goddamn potato, lumpy, brown and stuck until someone comes along and pulls your head out of your ass. Is it sinkin' in yet how pointless this is?"

 

Morty pressed down on the gas pedal until they were out in the middle of some glittery cosmic dust. Then he parked. "We'll go back whe-when you tell me what happened, Ri-Rick. Till then, get comfortable, because we'll just sit here."

 

"In silence I hope, because the more you gab, the more I want to kick you in the nuts," Rick growled, texting to Summer.

 

"If I come back alone it's 'cause I strangled him."


	4. We've Been Thinking Too Much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So we come to the pork and potatoes. Rick deflects, Morty reacts. For a moment, they're both equally afraid.  
> Warnings for (vague) discussion of suicide, and substance abuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure if there should be slash, or if this should stay innocent. There've been no hints of attraction or anything so far so I'll probably just keep to the swearing and other inappropriateness. Fun fact, I won't be editing this chapter at all so you'll get it all at once! F-For once. Sorry about... about that. Haha!

Morty rolled his eyes and leaned his cheek against his hand. The silence had stretched on for about twenty minutes, until Rick became drunk. He told horrible jokes, rehashed memories from their previous adventures and sang out of key. "Jeez, Rick. I only wa-wanna know 'cause you scared the sh-shit out of me. This is cruel and unusual punishment."

"Y-Yeahh and you deserve it, punk-ass little car thief," Rick grunted out between belches, looking for anything else to drink in the backseat. "Ca-Car thief and man thief."

The teen bumped his forehead on the window. "You wouldn't wanna walk in on me like that," he mumbled. "Not moving, barely breathing, covered in wha-whatever the hell that stuff was. You can be mad all you want, but I couldn't just... just do nothing!"

The old man froze, but just for a second, before going back to his rummaging. "I'm sure you can figure it out on your own, Morty. Why'd I wanna be alone in the first place, can you at least remember that?"

It came to Morty like an electric shock, and he put his hand up to his mouth, putting the rest together. "When Summer asked about her, Rick shrugged it off, but... something was definitely wrong with the way he was so casual about it. He must have taken it badly, or-or something happened and she had to leave."

"Wh-What is it, what are you thinkin', Morty?" his drunk grandpa said, eyes narrowing.

Another span of silence occurred, and Morty could see the pain creeping into Rick's eyes. "Rick, won't you... please don't drink right now. It's not gonna help you--"

"Aughh, no! Don't tell me what to, what to do in my car, Morty, shit!" Frustrated, Rick opened the bottle he'd found and was about to chug from it. Morty let out a shriek and grabbed it away from him. "The fuck, Morty?"

Truly terrified of his grandpa's face, Morty turned the bottle around and read the label. "R-Rick, you were about to drink the Antifreeze from the fucking garage!"

~ Help Me

Even Rick knew he had crossed a line then. Morty threw the bottle into the back and started crying noisily, huddled up in the driver's seat. The moment was way too sobering for Rick's taste. His need to be numb was all-consuming, but he had never been so gone that he stopped reading the label on shit. "Morty... hey."

"Aughh..." Rick's hand on his shoulder spurred Morty into action, unbuckling his seat belt and crawling over the stick shift. They squeezed each other tight until Morty quieted down, ignoring the buzz sounds from Rick's pocket. "Ri-Rick!"

"Shh, quiet buddy, it's okay. Grandpa's okay. Y-You sure saved my stupid ass there."

Morty babbled into his chest, squeaking and getting tears all over Rick's coat. He tearfully forbid Rick to do such a stupid, asshole thing like that again, anxious that Beth would probably kill them both for coming out here. Rick listened, petting Morty's hair and nodding his head when the boy stopped making sense. At long last, Morty sobbed himself out and fell into an unstable sleep. Every few minutes he would call out for Rick, who was always there to rub his back and talk to him.

"We've dinked around long enough, Morty. It's time to go home," the scientist whispered, carefully nipping the keys out of Morty's hip pocket. "Gotcha, bitch!"

\--

"Y-You never answered me, Rick," asked Morty with red-lined eyes when he woke up. Rick was back in his seat, driving them towards an ice cream place they sometimes went to after a job. Morty looked like he needed it.

"You never asked anything, man," said Rick as he took a drink from his flask. The flask was safe, he always knew what was in there. The Antifreeze had scared the both of them so much that Rick was done with Earth shit for the time being, maybe even for the rest of the week. "Jesus," he muttered, trying to ignore the chill going up the back of his neck.

"Di-Did you pass out doing an experiment? There was sticky wet stuff all over the... don't make that face, you dirty old bastard! I'm serious!"

"So-Sorry Morty, you walked into that one," Rick cackled, leaning on the steering wheel as his shoulders shook.

Morty crossed his arms, his expression telling Rick that he wouldn't forgive another joke like that during this discussion. Rick had never been unconscious for so long before, to Morty's knowledge. He could have been having a heart attack for all the teenager knew. "I walked in there thinking you were just passed out, but... it was way worse than I've ever seen."

"Jeez kid, you always think the worst. Well, so do I most of the time, but... you've gotta calm down, ya know? I'm still kicking around, and nothing like that wi-will happen again, okay? I just... hit a low point in there. You have those, you must have those."

Morty nodded, not about to admit that Rick was usually the cause of his low points. His frequent insults hit deep, forcing Morty to see himself in a depressing light. Worse, even if his grandfather was right, Morty didn't know how to change. "We're so similar it worries me," he thought, leaning against Rick's shoulder and sniffling.


	5. What's Really Important and What's Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Morty have ice cream, mess around and go home.

~ I'd Live for You (And it's Hard to Do)

Rick picked Morty up once they got to the ice cream parlor and carried him inside on his back, thin arms hooked under the young man's knees. Morty hiccuped, insisting that he wasn't a baby and could walk just fine, but Rick only smiled and kept going. "You're not heavy, just suck it up."

His grandson grumbled, but realized how tired he was from crying and put his head on Rick's shoulder. "Th-Thanks Rick."

Inside, they found a booth and decided on what kind of ice cream they wanted. Morty wanted Rick to help him choose something he had never tried before, but was worried the old man would trick him into ordering crap flavor or worse. Rick asked why the fuck crap flavor would be on the Flavor of the Week page of the menu, to which Morty rolled his eyes.

"What tastes like crap to us probably tastes like fruity ambrosia to other races. I'm just being safe," the teen said, quietly enough that the other patrons didn't overhear him. "I'll just have what you're having, okay."

Rick's face crumpled and he dramatically flung out his arms. "Wow, my own grandchild doesn't trust me at all. How many adventures have we been on since we met? I do my best to help you at school and keep you safe and this is how you thank me? With such blatant distrust?"

"O-Oh my god, Rick, stop," Morty hissed when aliens all around turned to stare at them. Some even mumbled about the ingratitude of youth these days and called Morty a brat. "I'm-I'm sorry... you pick for me, I'm sure it'll be great. Just stop yelling like that."

"Good choice." The waitress for their table returned and asked them what they would like. Rick politely asked for a flavor of sundae that Morty could never dream of pronouncing, and asked for the biggest size the parlor had. "We'll need two spoons, please."

"Of course, sir. I'll be right back!" The young woman looked a little flustered as she walked away, drawing a sigh out of Morty.

"How do you do that?" he asked, leaning his head on his hand. "No matter what the girl's age, you always manage to charm her like it's effortless."

Rick scoffed at his grandkid's jealousy. "Guys too," he said so quickly Morty almost didn't catch it, before taking a long pull from his flask. "Age isn't a factor, Morty. It's aughh-appreciation that gets you into their heads the quickest. Servers aren't appreciated, no matter which universe or galaxy you go to. I've had shitty jobs, and had to deal with aauuhhll kinds of rude assholes, just like our cute waitress does." Not to mention he had been one of those rude assholes, when he had too much alcohol in his system. "Once you're out of high school, you'll quickly understand what I mean."

"Ah," said Morty softly, glad Rick was around to teach him things Jerry never really stopped to consider telling his son. He wasn't horrible to waiters, but because of his irregular job, he could never tip as much as he wanted. Morty reminded himself to tip the girl what she deserved for her smile and great service.

~ People Back Home Have Been Talking to You (But You Ignore Them Still)

"Aren't you gonna get that? Turn it off, somethin'?" Rick pointed across the table to the vibrating phone that Morty had been rejecting since they were in the car. The brunette felt bad for worrying his family, but at the same time he was still pissed at them.

"They're a lot more worried about me than about you."

"That's because they knouugghhw I can take care of myself, unlike you," Rick chuckled, his laughter growing when Morty threw a cherry at his face.

"You could have been dying, and they chose to ignore it. Even Summer," thought Morty, appetite shrinking as images of Rick at his desk flashed through his mind. He pushed his spoon through his half of their sundae, watching the ceiling light gleam off the smooth metal surface. "I was so close to losing you for good."

Rick noticed the change in mood, and hated it. "Hey hey, look where we are, what we're doing. What has happened, guess what? It doesn't matter anymore. We're here, Morty. That matters. So get back to your half before the whole thing turns into a goopy puddle."

Eating the rest of the ice cream turned into a messy game, with nonsense rules thrown in. There were penalties for who got brain freeze, who dripped on the table and a reward would be decided to whoever got the last bite. Rick was competitive and rarely dripped with his spoon, but once it reached his face it was a different story. Both of them had sticky mouths by the end, and Morty bruised his elbow to get the winning spoonful.

"Nice dive, you little shit," Rick laughed, using his napkin to clean his fingers off. "Hope it stings every time you jerk with it."

"G-Geez, Rick!" cried Morty, flushing like a tomato and covering his face with his own napkin. After cleaning the mess up, the satisfied pair paid with a generous tip and went out to the car.

\--

"Morty Smith, get in here. You have a lot of explaining to do, your mom was worried sick. Not only did you disobey me, you drove without a license and didn't tell anyone where you were all day! What do you have to say, young man?"

Jerry's verbal vomit made Rick want to hide somewhere and finish his flask off. But he felt kind of responsible for not driving straight home once he had the keys, and for wasting a lot of time bullshitting with Morty. Oh well, time well-wasted didn't really count as wasted time at all. "Jerry, man. Let him talk."

Morty felt stronger when Rick's hand came down, loosely clasping his shoulder. Beth came out of the master bedroom and dropped to her knees in front of Morty. She didn't know much about why Morty had taken the ship, only that her son was worried about Rick.

"I'm sorry for scaring you Mom, but, I... I-I'm not sorry for taking the car." Morty seemed changed in a barely detectable way, and it made Beth proud. He wasn't afraid of being grounded or given other punishments; he was self-aware and was holding himself accountable for what he did.

"Don't worry about it, honey. The only important thing is that you and Dad are home safe." Beth dried her tears and pulled Rick into a group hug, and the genius didn't resist. Summer got up from the couch and quietly bitched Morty out for not taking her with, before squeezing him in her arms. Jerry, feeling left out of the hug-fest, cleared his throat.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry I got mad at you, son. You were right to check on your grandpa when you thought he was in trouble, a-and I should have gone with you."

Disentangling himself from his sister's embrace, Morty walked to his dad and put his arms around him. "Y-Yeah... you should've. But it's okay. He's okay."

"That's the important thing," Jerry agreed, smiling over Morty's shoulder at Beth, who returned his smile with a teary one of her own.

~ The End, Motherfucka! Roll credits! Roll the credits, go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the last one! I wanna write more R/M, dark dirty stuff. I'm not squeamish about fanfiction, and I know most of you aren't, but I always get writer's stage fright when my work takes a turn for the... mature. My next idea involves Morty by himself in the bathroom, inspired by a song I heard just this week. I can't get Melanie Martinez' sound out of my head.


End file.
